Killing the Secret (3 page)

Chapter Five

The gravel crackled beneath Bud’s tires as he drove into the parking area. His car lights shone on the only vehicle in sight. As he walked toward Tina, he watched her get out of the car and lean against the door.

“Hello,” he said.

“Hi,” she replied, her anger dissolving. “You sure sounded bossy on the phone.”

“I’m sorry, but I had to say something to see you again.”

“It’s okay,” Tina said. “What did you want to tell me?”

“I wanted to tell you good-bye.” Bud grabbed her hand.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m not going anywhere. You, however, are on your way to heaven or hell, depending on how forgiving your God is.” His left hand took a fistful of blouse at her throat.

“Oh, God…No!”

He felt the rage of her small fists against his back, then a boney knee shot up between his legs. Planting his feet solidly on the ground, he showed no reaction to her struggles. He grabbed her arm with his right hand and stuck the needle into her forearm, releasing the curare. She fell to the ground. He watched as her body writhed. Fingernails dug into the dirt for only seconds before her body turned blue from the loss of oxygen.

Bud turned and walked away. “Two down and five to go.”

Chapter Six

Lexie, Tye, and Delia watched from the office window as Johnson and Ronald walked up the sidewalk. Lexie glanced at faces staring from the front of Dixie’s restaurant, across the street.

“Goodness, why does he have him handcuffed?” Delia nervously twisted an escaped strand of long grey hair from her bun.

“He doesn’t need to,” Tye scowled. “He’s an asshole!”

“That’s enough.” Lexie’s glare focused on Tye. “Johnson sees Ronald as a murderer, not a good old boy from town.”

Tye clamped his lips into an angry line. “I’ll be back.” He stomped out the back door as Ronald and Johnson came in the front.

“I’m Stan Johnson,” announced the detective.

“I’m Lexie Wolfe. This is Delia, our dispatcher and secretary.”

“This is the prisoner.” Johnson pointed as if referring to an object.

Ronald stood silently with downcast eyes. His body leaned forward making his bald spot the most visible part of his head.

“Yes, I know Ronald. My brother, Tye, went to high school with him.”

Delia walked toward Ronald. “My dear, dear boy. I’m so sorry about Terri.”

Ronald tried to speak but only a sob came out, then another and another. Delia wrapped her soft thick arms around his slender frame. His body curved over as he bent down to cry on her shoulder.

“Pitiful,” Johnson shook his head in disgust. “Any place I can stay in town?”

“There’s a motel a mile east,” Lexie answered against the background of Ronald’s now quieter sobs. “I’m sure you’ve had a tiring trip so I’ll take over.”

“I can’t leave until he’s locked up.”

“That’s easy enough. Ronald, get in the cell,” Lexie directed.

Delia kept hold of his arm and accompanied him. She patted the multi-colored quilt and Ronald immediately lay down like an obedient puppy. “Rest here,” she said softly.

Delia hesitantly left Ronald’s side and Lexie closed the cell door.

Johnson checked the door. “I’ll be here in the morning around ten, sooner if you’ll let me buy you breakfast.”

“Nine-thirty works,” Lexie responded. She felt Delia’s disapproving look as Johnson walked out the door.

“That guy doesn’t have a heart,” Delia blurted. “Hard to believe a man that handsome can be so mean.”

“Just doing his job,” Lexie said flatly.

She didn’t respond to Delia’s comment about Johnson’s looks. However, she was sure that she’d never, in her thirty-one years, seen a man who looked that good. He was probably five foot ten, blond hair, green eyes, and a body that appeared to be in perfect physical condition. She didn’t usually gawk at men, but it was difficult not to stare at Stan.

Chapter Seven

The door slammed behind Tye, rocking the old birdhouse that hung in the tree outside the office. His lips were locked and his head pounded with the words he didn’t say. His kid sister reprimanding him about some joker she didn’t know, added to the news about Ronald, was too much.

He got in the patrol car and drove back and forth on Main Street hoping for a jaywalker or speeder on whom he could take out some of his anger.
What a joke!
His life had evaporated into vengeance against someone who didn’t use a crosswalk. Every day he asked himself why he was still in Diffee and the answer was always the same. Lexie wouldn’t go on with her life until Dad’s killer was locked up. Tye was a captive to her obsession. He wondered where they’d each be if it had never happened. Lexie might have three kids and he’d be somewhere else. That’s where he was going after Dad’s killer was caught—anywhere else. Finally, he forced himself back to the office to face boss sister and Ronald.

Chapter Eight

Ronald was eating chicken and dumplings when Tye returned. He reached out his hand to shake Ronald’s—then quickly got to the point. “What happened?”

“I could never kill Terri.”

“Ronald, you got to be straight with me. I understand that a man wants to keep the people he loves from suffering.”

“I just told you. I didn’t kill her,” Ronald’s voice was raspy with irritation. “As soon as I walked in the door I saw how blue she looked and I yelled for help.”

“Is there anyone who can verify that you walked in the room just prior to yelling?” Lexie questioned.

“There was a tall guy with a gray beard and toupee. He ignored me when I tried to make eye contact with him.”

“Why do you remember him?” Lexie’s brow furrowed.

“Because I was going to signal that his toupee was crooked. After he acted like such a snob I didn’t care if he looked like a fool.”

“Any idea of what room he came out of? That guy may be your alibi,” Tye reasoned.

“There were half a dozen possibilities.”

“Private rooms?” Lexie asked.

“Yes,” Ronald nodded.

“That means one of six people who he was visiting.”

“No,” Ronald corrected, “one of five. Terri was in one of those rooms.”

“You better not be jacking with us,” Tye’s voice went from kind to suspicious. “If you did this, you need to man up and not send us on a wild goose chase.”

“I’m not lying. A better man would’ve helped her die, but I was too selfish. Every minute she was alive was one more minute she was mine.” The words came quickly out of Ronald’s mouth as if trying to escape before emotion gagged him.

“We’ll get you out of this.”

Lexie grimaced at Tye’s promise. She knew handsome Stan wasn’t going to appreciate interference in his case.

Chapter Nine

Heather thought about dying as she drove her old jeep across the metal bridge. It’d be easy to turn the wheel sharply to the left. She saw the car in her mind, smashing through the metal barrier and diving headlights first into the river. She visualized the car going downward. Water surrounded her red hair. Each strand floated like a tentacle of blood around her head. The water crept through the windows and replaced all her oxygen. Her life, thankfully, would be over. She wondered if her cheating ex-husband would bring his twenty-something girlfriend to the funeral.

A memory hit her brain like lightening and her words spewed out, “Oh shit, sonofabitch! I haven’t taken his name off my life insurance policy. I’ll be damned if he and his little whore princess are going to get fifty thousand dollars off me.”

Fearful that she’d tempted fate with her imaginings, she slowed down and firmly gripped the wheel.

Heather walked into Dr. William’s office twenty minutes late. She flopped down on the overstuffed leather chair that faced his desk and tried to avoid his disapproving eyes.

“We only have forty minutes to talk, Heather. Why are you so late?”

“I was contemplating driving my car off a bridge.”

“That’s interesting. What stopped you?”

“I realized that I haven’t changed the beneficiary on my insurance. DA Lave has so many friends at the police department they’d call it an accident instead of a suicide in order to fill his wallet.”

“You know it makes a psychiatrist look incompetent if one of his patients commits suicide.” He nervously pressed his hand across his mouth, covering his mustache and disrupting the perfect grooming of his beard.

“It’s nothing personal, Doc. It’s not your fault I hit the peak of my life at eighteen and since then everything I touch turns to shit.”

“How do I know you won’t hurt yourself tonight?” Dr. Williams crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“My insurance agent is on vacation. I can’t change the policy for a couple of days.”

“I’m tired of you joking about suicide, Heather. You’re such a beautiful and bright woman. Why are you letting that fool of an ex-husband ruin your life?”

“I wasn’t good enough. He replaced me with a younger model.”

“You got it wrong, Heather.
He
wasn’t good enough. If a woman like you loved me I’d treasure her forever.” Moisture clouded his eyes.

“Doc…Paul, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Heather, I can’t be your psychiatrist anymore.”

“You’re going to desert me, too?”

His elbows bent on his desk and his hands massaged his forehead. “I can’t deal with your problems in a professional way because I’ve fallen in love with you.”

“Paul, I don’t know what to say.”

“All I need from you is a promise you’ll go inpatient for a month. I’ve already asked Dr. Lowery to take over your case.”

“I will. I need a couple of days to get everything in order. You know—the cat, the mail, and the life insurance policy.”

“If you start feeling depressed, you need to phone me. Can I trust you, Heather?”

“If a man like you can love me, then I must not be such a dud after all.” A hug was what she needed but he didn’t move from behind his desk, obviously embarrassed by his confession. She touched his hand and whispered, “I promise.”

Again she drove her car slowly, and now purposely, to her apartment.

Heather woke up the next morning with a certainty she hadn’t had in months. She was sure that she didn’t want to die. The ringing of the phone interrupted her packing.

“Heather, it’s Bud.”

“Bud, good grief! Talk about ancient history. What are you up to?” Heather found one empty spot on her bed and sunk into it.

“I’m in town for the day and I’m on my way to see you. After all, I haven’t bugged you in twenty years.”

Heather laughed. “Well, in that case, I guess I can spare the time. My address is 403 SW Expressway. Can you come this morning? I’m leaving on a trip tomorrow and have lots to do.”

“I’ll be right there.”

She fell back on her mess and stared at the ceiling. Something about reliving teenage memories made her feel special. Those really were her good old days.

She phoned Paul to tell him about Bud coming but the answering machine came on.

“I’m with a patient. Please leave a message.”

“Paul, it’s Heather. Just want you to know that I’m fine and getting packed. An old friend from high school is dropping by this morning. I’m so excited! I’ll talk to you soon.”

Fifteen minutes later Bud knocked on Heather’s door.

“You’re quick,” she said. “Most people get lost three times before they find my place.”

“I have great directionality.”

“Come in, stranger,” Heather said. “It’s so good to see you.”

“You, too. I heard you’ve had some tough times lately.” Bud’s words sounded accusatory.

“Sounds like I’m still on the gossip line.”

“I don’t mean to upset you.”

“You’re not. Yes, I’ve had some failures—even failed at committing suicide —twice. That should be the definition of a loser.” Heather laughed.

“I want to help you,” Bud offered.

“Thanks, but I don’t need your help. Today I’m the best I’ve been in years.”

“I don’t want to help you live. I want to help you die.” Bud’s face was blank.

“My psychiatrist was griping at me for making jokes about death. He’s right. It’s morbid. So let’s change the subject.”

“Your death is the only subject I’m interested in.”

“Cut it out! You’re not funny.” Heather stood, her hands firmly planted on her hips. “I need to run my errands, so leave.”

He wrapped his arms around her. Chills invaded her body from the creepy loose caress. She backed up. His grip immediately tightened. He plunged the needle into the back of her arm. One brief scream then her mouth froze.

* * *

Bud hated it when the saliva spilled out of her mouth. Seeing her turn blue was enjoyable though, because it meant the poison paralyzed her lungs. He filled the tub with water, then pulled Heather’s body into the bathroom. He removed his leather gloves and forced her body face down into the water.

He cocked her head to the side and stared into the darkness of her eyes. “Congratulations, Heather. You’re finally a success. Me, too. Three down and four to go.”

Chapter Ten

Lexie waited for Tye on the sidewalk outside the office door.

“Are you my welcoming committee?”

“I just need to talk to you without Ronald hearing.” Lexie continued, “I know you want to help him but we don’t have any jurisdiction in his case. Even if we did have the right to interfere, we don’t have the money to go out of state to investigate. I’ll talk to Stan. It’ll be his decision as to whether or not he pursues the leads.”

“So now he’s Stan. Well, Sheriff, I hope you can convince Johnson, because if you can’t, an innocent man is going to rot in prison. His ten-year-old son will be left without a father and a mother.” Avoiding a response, he turned and walked into the office.

“Lexie,” a masculine voice called from across the street. “Are you ready for breakfast?”

Lexie answered with a wave.

Two elderly men sat on a bench outside the restaurant. They eyed Stan and Lexie walking up the short path to the old brown rock building.